


Impossible Simplicity

by MRReed_27



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Kylo Ren Backstory, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Starkiller Base, he's not just a whiny bitch, mostly character exploration, one pretty graphic scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 06:57:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6413533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MRReed_27/pseuds/MRReed_27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starkiller Base officer Simona Jewell, stationed in the main control room, begins to notice Kylo Ren during his frequent visits with General Hux and finds herself falling hard for the idea of him and everything that he represents. After several discreet attempts to catch his attention, he finally confronts her. When he agrees to give in to her fantasies -- under the promise of strict secrecy --  she learns more about him than she had anticipated. At the same time, although he insists that their affair be entirely physical in nature, his inability to control his emotions and the sinking realization that he may be developing feelings for her prove more problematic than he is willing to accept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impossible Simplicity

She knew better than most that things rarely turn out the way in which you expect. Simona Jewell had been stationed with the First Order for two years now, and while she liked working there and felt a strong loyalty to the importance of its mission, she couldn’t say it was the most satisfying post that she had ever held.

The First Order had been watching her performance in the Academy for years, impressed by her dedication and patiently awaiting her graduation day. Her parents had always been staunch supporters of the Republic, but they secretly -- yet fervently -- felt more allegiance to the sentiments of the First Order. Simona’s parents insisted that the Republic simply wasn’t trying hard enough to restore order in the galaxy, and that more measures needed to be taken in order to ensure that the Jedis would never return. It was the only way that there could be peace once again. Since the First Order was considered somewhat of a radical movement, her family didn’t want to risk being seen outside of what was deemed socially acceptable; however, at the first opportunity, The Jewells moved to an exclusive holding within the Unknown Regions, close to the workings of the First Order in an effort to raise their daughter properly. In exchange for Simona’s adept knowledge of computer programming and strong leadership skills, she was promised that her family would be taken care of and that it would ultimately bring them closer together than she had ever imagined. Having spent the majority of her life in the Academy aboard a Star Destroyer, this arrangement sounded like a dream come true. That conversation took place almost three years ago. Simona hasn’t seen her family since the day that she waved goodbye and boarded the ship that would take her to what is now known as the Starkiller Base. 

Her assignment, though unfulfilling, was prestigious -- she worked closely under General Hux and was granted privileges from which many of the other inhabitants of the base were withheld. Unmonitored access to the luxury showers with heated water, gourmet meals prepared by a professional chef, a private room of her own. She was stationed in the main control deck, featuring a large window with an expansive view of the snowy world which existed outside of Starkiller Base. It wasn’t much to speak of, seeing as the entire planet was home to the base, but it still held a glimmer of what lie just beyond the cold, sterile environment that was now all she knew. 

General Hux, the commander of the First Order, would frequently have individuals come to speak with him in confidence or on display, depending on the sensitivity of the issue. There was one man, however, who in no matter what emotional state he found himself would never hesitate to tell Hux exactly how he felt in no uncertain terms for all to hear. Oftentimes, it occurred quite loudly and verbally. Then his lean, tall frame would dramatically turn on the spot and leave in haste, his robes trailing behind him.  
Before these last couple of months she had barely even known that this man existed. When thinking back to the mandatory assemblies she could vaguely remember seeing him around, but as there were a number of people walking around in black robes it was impossible for her to say whether or not she had seen him specifically. Starkiller Base had so many different types of people and species coming through, she had stopped trying to categorize planet of origin or even diversity of fashion choices. Her placement in the main control room had been recent; a promotion. And as she had grown comfortable in her new position, she had also gotten used to the appearance of this mysterious stranger. 

The first time she could remember taking notice of him he was wearing his signature mask underneath a dark hood, menacingly returning Simona’s gaze on his way out after she had glanced over curiously from her station at the rather tense conversation taking place between Hux and him. A black, silver-etched scowl framed where there should have been eyes as she felt herself stiffen in fear. She couldn’t help but recall stories of the great leader Darth Vader as the man glared at her just as quickly as he looked away. It struck such terror in her that she immediately shifted her gaze to her screen, but the damage had been done. The image of the mask had been seared into her memory. 

And then there was the time where she -- accidentally -- had seen him without the mask. She had been passing by a conference room where a meeting was taking place one afternoon on her way back from delivering a sensitive message to another department of the base. The door had slid open to admit someone new into the room, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed an item -- one that she had by now accepted as his face -- placed on the edge of a table. Marveling at the fact that it appeared to be more of a helmet than a mask as she had initially believed, it took her a second to make the connection and to look up at the owner of the helmet. She had been genuinely surprised to discover that he was a young man. Young, but with years of pain written in his expression. He had glanced out the door at her in apparent annoyance of her distant intrusion before the door slid shut again on him giving some impassioned speech. He has come in to speak to General Hux many times since then, and each time he entered the room it sent her body into chills. In spite of this, she’s become strangely intrigued by the man called Kylo Ren. 

 

It began as most crushes do -- slowly at first, until confidence gains its momentum. Scandalous glimpses stolen when she thinks he isn’t looking. Suddenly finding herself lost in thoughts of him instead of focusing on her work. Half of the fun was the thrill, the chase; the way it made her heart race each time that she pushed a boundary. He would only come by two or three times a week, but every time he did she now made it a point to glance up in his direction as he left the room. He didn’t always notice her, but if he did, she allowed it. She could hardly bear to stifle the grin that was sure to follow upon his exit whenever he looked for an instant longer than was necessary in her direction. She felt silly, like a fifteen year old girl, but it brought some excitement to her otherwise bland existence. And it was a secret she kept to herself. There were a few other girls with whom she would eat meals or pass time with in other activities, but she never told them about her fixation on Kylo Ren. She wasn’t entirely sure what his ranking was; if she was his inferior, or what kind of power he really held. She was afraid they would tell someone else, or even worse, tell him. It was a risk she wasn’t willing to take. 

Her playful flirtations had been taking place innocuously enough until the day that she stepped out to use the restroom not long after he had left the control deck. She depressed the switch that would indicate the brief abandonment of her station and left the room, walking the short distance down a vacant hallway to her destination. Before she left the restroom she examined herself in the mirror; expressive hazel eyes gazing above a smattering of freckles and rose pink lips stared back at her. Twenty years old and so full of opportunity and promise. Was her time being best spent here? 

She tucked the rogue chestnut hairs that fought against her standard-issue bun back behind her ears and exited through the door, only to be completely taken by surprise when she felt herself being pulled into a nearby supply closet. A gloved hand placed over her mouth prevented her from protesting as the pitch darkness of the closet was suddenly broken by the warm red glow of what she recognized as a light saber.

Her heart stopped in her chest and her eyes widened at the realization of whom she found herself standing -- well, face to mask with. The electric buzzing of the weapon permeated the enclosed space as she tried to get her bearings. Was he going to kill her? Someone would potentially come looking for her at some point, seeing as they were allotted no more than ten minutes for restroom breaks, but only about three minutes had elapsed so far. She would be lying a in a lifeless heap long before anyone discovered her, if that was the case. She began weighing her options, playing out the scenarios in her head...a quick jab to the stomach...an elbow to the face...

“Why have you been watching me?”

She looked up at him, frozen in place. The question was innocent enough, but the metallic quality of his voice coming through the mask disarmed her. She had never heard it that closely before, and it was so inhuman that she wondered if he was actually a droid of some sort. 

He continued to observe her, and even though he had long removed his hand, she was incapable of speech. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the threatening proximity of the light saber so close to her, or his quiet, expressionless stare as he waited for a response, or something else that hadn’t yet occurred to her. All she could think was, _how do I tell him that I like him? That I find his very existence fascinating? That all I want to do is make love to him?_

He nodded in acknowledgement, pausing to remove his helmet. She felt herself relax as his brown eyes considered her carefully, even kindly. “You find me attractive.”

She nodded sheepishly, her eyes downcast. The saber was abruptly extinguished, followed by the deafening silence that only comes after the absence of a disturbing noise one grows to accept as permanent. Her eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness surrounding them, and she was able to make out his silhouette standing directly in front of her.

“I wanted to confirm that I was reading your thoughts correctly,” he explained, and while she much preferred the deep, human timbre of his voice without the helmet, she frowned at his words. 

“My thoughts?” she asked cautiously. She had heard stories of the abilities of those who were skilled in The Force -- telekinesis, lightning manipulation, mind reading -- but she had never personally known anybody who was Force-sensitive. The realization that there were people who could actually do these things was something she had never considered.

He ignored her question, apparently too caught up in the moment to acknowledge that what he was capable of was far more amazing than he could be bothered to admit. The truth was, he knew he was powerful. Far more powerful than the other Knights of Ren, and confident that he was the favorite of Supreme Leader Snoke. He had been appointed the leader of the Knights, after all. He found solace in the Dark Side, and while he oftentimes -- struggled -- to silence the Light within him, he knew where he belonged. He was valued here. His grandfather was a legend, and anybody who regarded him as anything less than that was an absolute fool. 

“Before we can go any further with this, I need you to understand -- ‘we’ can never be a thing,” he stated resolutely. 

“Okay,” she replied, raising a curious eyebrow. Where was he going with this?

“If we pursue anything, there can be no emotional attachment whatsoever. It would be purely physical. Is that something you can accept?” he asked brusquely.

She hesitated before answering, her heart racing as she began to comprehend that her ludicrous fantasies were quickly becoming a reality. “I mean, it wouldn’t be my first choice, but I’m willing to give it a try,” she confirmed, the beginnings of a smile evident in her voice. 

“I’m serious.” 

The harshness of his response frightened her slightly, but was immediately replaced by determination. Obedience.

“I know.” She tried to keep her voice even, though she could feel herself trembling. The tingling rush of adrenaline was coursing through her body, and she was trying to keep up with what was happening long enough to make sure that he didn’t change his mind.

“You cannot tell _anyone_ ,” he continued. She felt him approach her from behind, and couldn’t help but shudder as she felt his hot breath on her neck. “I have ways to keep you quiet.”

Goosebumps erupted over her entire body as she did her best to remain calm. “That won’t be necessary,” she replied seductively, immediately regretting it in the fear that he would think she wasn’t taking him seriously until she felt him whip her around impatiently, lustfully, pulling her face to his as he kissed her without restraint. She gave in willingly and kissed him back, allowing him to draw her in closer as her heart felt as if it were going to explode from her chest. 

Just at that moment, someone outside began entering numbers on the keypad to open the door. 

They were reminded of the location of their spontaneous tryst as his hand shot out towards the door, palm open as he held it in place. 

“We’ll continue this later,” he promised, struggling to catch his breath. He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it back before he moved to replace his helmet, pulling the hood of his robes over the top of it. 

“Where…?” she whispered, but he shook his head. 

“I’ll figure something out. Look for instructions in your room after your work is done for the day,” he explained. She nodded in affirmation. “You go first. Tell whoever it is that you weren’t paying attention and wandered in here, thinking it was the restroom.”

“Okay,” she agreed uncertainly, moving towards the door as he brought his hand down and let her move in front of him.

Whatever happened after that was a blur. All she could remember was departing from her station for the day, walking back to her room as she desperately anticipated whatever was waiting for her.

 

She couldn’t help but feel like everybody was staring at her as she walked down the hallway to her room, trying to maintain a semblance of calm. _I can still back out_ , she told herself. _I don’t need to go through with this._ But the truth was, she wanted to. She was bored, and while she wasn’t a huge fan of casual sex, she also wasn’t a stranger to it. She liked him. If he was interested as well, even if he was potentially a man of immense power, what harm could there be? 

Inhaling deeply, she collected herself for a moment before she entered her code and the door slid open in front of her. Her eyes were drawn to the center of the room and immediately fell upon a package lying on her bed. Sitting down beside it, she read the note first: _Meet me in GR12 at 00:30 tonight. Wear this. Do your best to appear inconspicuous._

She examined the map and entry code that had been enclosed along with it before she began to peel the tape from the package, anxious to see what kind of elaborate costume he had planned out for her. However, when a nondescript hooded black robe unfurled in front of her, she couldn’t say that she was surprised. _He wants me to look imposing_ , she realized. _So that nobody tries to mess with me._ A grin spread across her face as she fell back onto her bed, draping the robe over herself. The next couple of hours were going to feel like an eternity.

Not prepared to make small talk with her group of friends when she had such a heavy issue weighing on her mind, she ate dinner by herself. They would sense that she wasn’t paying attention, that she would seem off, and then they would start questioning her. It would be out of genuine concern or curiosity and never malice, but still. _I want this to be mine._

She passed the time by writing a letter to her family (which she was certain would be filter ed by First Order personnel before it made its departure) and before she knew it, it was 23:30. She showered quickly, giving herself a pep talk in the mirror as she waited for the water to warm up. _You did it. You are a champion. You are a radiant creature of the night._

She figured that she shouldn’t get fully dressed, because, well, what would be the point? Pragmatically, she instead opted for the sleeveless shirt and form-fitting shorts that are required attire to be worn underneath the uniforms, in addition to pulling her hair back into the familiar bun which was the mandatory hairstyle of every woman who worked there (and had hair long enough to pull it off). She placed the hood over her head and covered her face as much as it would allow, taking one last look at the map before she discreetly exited her room. She didn’t want to walk around with the map, and was relatively confident that she knew where she was going. Even so, she was nervous. What would she say if someone stopped her? Asked her a question to which she didn’t know the answer? Recognized her from the control room? It was something she couldn’t worry about. Staring at the ground and moving with purpose, she set off in the direction of GR12. 

It was late so the hallways were eerily empty, but the truly strange thing was that there also weren’t many guards around. Usually there were guards littered at every corner or so. Was this something that he had managed to control? She avoided eye contact with the few that she did come across and turned the corner to the strip of GRs. Moving casually towards number 12, she paused in front of it as her heart pounded in her chest. _You can do this, Simona._ Her fingers shook as she, with difficulty, managed to punch in the correct number sequence.

She scanned the vacant room that revealed itself before her, her eyes falling over a crisply made bed of white sheets, a wooden dresser, and a nightstand. Save for a light that was left on in the bathroom it was dark, and he was nowhere to be seen. She quickly realized that GR stood for “guest room”, which apparently was his solution to finding a location. It would work for now, but the idea made her nervous. What if a droid came by to clean it up? But then again, why would one this late at night? She forced herself to drive it out of her mind and sat down on the freshly laundered sheets, pulling the hood back and removing the elastic out of her hair as she let it cascade down her shoulders. A scent redolent of plumeria imbued the air as she folded her hands in her lap, not entirely sure what to do. Had he forgotten about her? She contemplated turning on more lights, but her attention was suddenly arrested by the tones of digits being entered on a keypad. Her heart jumped into her throat as she leapt up from the bed, looking for a place to hide. 

She listened intently from her place in the nearest closet as she heard someone enter, followed by the sound of the door sliding closed once again. The familiar _whoosh_ of his helmet decompressing was immediately followed by his face appearing at the closet doorway. 

“Hi,” she uttered in embarrassment. 

He looked slightly bothered, slightly amused. “What are you doing?” 

“I didn’t know it was you...I panicked,” she explained. They simultaneously looked each other up and down, apparently rekindling the attraction that had conspired in the supply closet only hours earlier. He allowed a careful smile as she took in his large shapely nose, his adorable attempt at taming his dark hair, his lanky form clothed entirely in black. She couldn’t help but smile back, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

“Don’t worry. Nobody’s coming in here,” he assured her. 

“How do you know?”

“I have access to the schedule. This room isn’t set to be used for a couple of weeks or so.”

“And the guards?” she insisted. “Where have they all gone?”

He narrowed his eyes and contemplated her for a moment before he answered. “They have a shift change at 00:30. Nobody should give you too much of a problem walking around in...that--” he said, waving his hand at her plain black robe dismissively “--but it would be impossible for me to roam these halls quite as easily with so many stormtroopers around.” He continued watching her, as if trying to figure her out. It made her dreadfully uncomfortable. “You don’t let anything get past you, do you?”

“I try not to,” she replied, refusing to break eye contact. She felt that keeping it was a test that she wanted desperately not to fail. 

He looked at her in what she felt was admiration for a moment, almost as if she were his equal, before a sneer took its place. “Take that robe off. You look ridiculous,” he spat, and the mood was broken. 

She took some solace in the fact that at least he was discerning in his choice of partners, but still, she found his demand to be a little harsher than was necessary. She stood in her place beside the bed and let the robe drop to the floor quietly, obediently. He began pacing the room, apparently struggling with some sort of conundrum as she went ahead and peeled off the undershirt and shorts as well. Having not brought any other clothes she stood there in the dim light in her bra and panties, exposed. Vulnerable. 

Just at that moment, he looked up at her. Her mind flashed to her thighs that were always a little too thick; her stomach that was always a little too chubby. It all contributed to a great pair of breasts, but still; it was something that society had never let her forget. However, to her delight he regarded her not with disgust or contempt, but with the ferocity of a man who had been stranded in a desert, desperately eager for her to slake his thirst. He strode across the room and took her up in his arms, kissing her passionately. All of her anxieties immediately melted away at the authenticity of his gesture, remembering why she had come here in the first place. His words replayed in her head -- _“We” can never be a thing_ \-- and everything clicked into place for her. _He doesn’t feel the need to exchange pleasantries with me. He just wants me for my body. And that’s okay. I agreed to that._

Once she abandoned the expectation of intimacy, she was finally able to enjoy herself. She gave in to his touch and found herself enraptured by his fingertips. He was assertive yet tender; out of practice yet confident. She recalled the way that he demanded the attention of a room -- so effortless and unintentional -- and allowed him to take control, knowing that it was what he would prefer. He impetuously tossed her onto the bed and climbed on top of her, kissing her neck and groping her breasts as he paused to pull his shirt off over his head. He was exceedingly pale, which wasn’t too shocking -- all business would have been conducted indoors. Starkiller Base was entirely self-contained. He refocused his attention on her and she wilted under his lips, her breath coming out in shattered gasps as he reached his hand between her legs. He continued to kiss her -- probably more than was safe for him to allow without beginning to develop feelings -- and she hungrily allowed him to do as he pleased. She had dreamed of this moment for weeks, maybe even months. The stranger with the frightening mask who was able to make her boss, General Hux, roll his eyes just at the mention of his name was rubbing himself up against her, breathing heavily into her ear. Kylo Ren, the man who struck fear in Rebel scum across the galaxy, was sliding his fingers inside of her, causing her to moan in ecstasy. He removed his fingers from her and inserted them into his mouth, savoring her wetness. She watched him closely as she felt her heart pounding, her libido rising. Before long, her remaining clothing was tossed carelessly across the room, closely followed by his. 

He fondled her sensuously, and while it seemed as if it was more for his benefit than hers, she enjoyed it immensely. She closed her eyes and lost herself, partially because it gave her comfort, but also because it felt awkward to look him in the eye. Only minutes previously it would have indicated weakness to look away, but now it felt wrong to regard him in the same way. Almost disrespectful. 

He positioned himself on top of her and she felt him plunge himself deep inside of her, causing her to gasp in pleasure. He grunted in response as he continued, looking anywhere but at her, though appearing to enjoy himself nonetheless. He grimaced in an attempt to stave off his impending climax, slowing down as he bit onto his lower lip. She ran her hands down his muscular arms and he looked down at her, startled, as if she had woken him from a reverie. She deftly averted her eyes and felt some invisible pressure forcibly wrench her hands back onto the bed to their respective places. 

Seemingly pleased by his exertion of dominance, he leaned down and kissed her on the neck, cupping her breasts as he continued to restrain her, causing her to moan tremulously. Deeply affected by her approval, he let her hands free and prompted her to flip around onto her knees and re-inserted himself. At the change of position she came hard, desperately clutching the sheets in front of her. She tried to keep quiet in case somebody was walking by, releasing nothing more than a subdued moan and some quick shallow breaths. It wasn’t long before she felt him pull out, a warm liquid drizzling onto her lower back as he finished himself off. She rolled over onto her side, completely spent as the mattress shifted under his weight and he removed himself from the bed. 

“Show yourself out,” he instructed her callously, leaving her there in a disheveled mess. The sound of water tinkling on tile emerged from the shower followed by a sliding door, and she knew that he meant it.

 

She awoke the next morning in her own bed feeling tired, used, and a little ashamed of herself. She wasn’t unfamiliar with work relationships -- she had engaged in one last year -- but this one felt different. _Because this isn’t a relationship_ , she realized. _This is an arrangement._ She hated to admit it, but she felt like a prostitute. 

Turning off her alarm, she sat up in bed and stared off into space for a moment before she remembered that she should get ready for work. _Shake it off, Simona,_ she urged. _You knew what you were getting yourself into. Accept it and get on with your day._ She nodded to herself and stood up, clenching her fists without meaning to as she headed to the closet to get dressed. Her routine glance in the mirror before heading out was intentionally canceled this morning, finding herself unwilling to meet her own eyes. She would get over it. It would just take time.

The day proceeded as usual, everything going according to protocol. Their mission to enforce the rule of the Empire over the galaxy had been running as smoothly as it had for years; it was relatively easy with no Jedi around to ruin things. But the rumors that had been circulating -- and really, the reason that the First Order existed -- spoke of an increase of Rebel spies and sympathizers on an ever-expanding collection of planets. Many had even heard murmurs as of late concerning the supposed whereabouts of Luke Skywalker. Officers like Simona often weren’t provided with much inside information, but every time that they were given new commands she couldn’t help but hope that she was doing her part to eliminate some pesky Rebel. To ensure a better future for all. 

Two hours into her shift, Kylo Ren stalked into the room, his face shrouded by the helmet. Her entire body tensed up as she forced herself to stare at her screen, but her eyes betrayed her and became enthralled with his presence. A hush developed as General Hux’s smirk said it all -- _here we go again_ \-- but much to the surprise of everyone in the room, the conversation went quite pleasantly. Uneventfully. Upon his departure, he deliberately looked at Simona’s station briefly, and she returned his gaze despite the slight resentment she held towards him for the time being. Literally the second that he left, whispers erupted from every seat. Simona felt her face grow hot as she looked down, pretending to be engaged in her duties. She was terrified that someone would try to start a conversation with her about what they had just seen, or even worse -- why he had been staring at her on his way out. 

At lunch, only one topic of conversation seemed fit for everyone’s lips: Why was Kylo Ren in such a good mood?

“Maybe he’s getting some,” Kierana joked, spearing a piece of lettuce from her bowl of salad. “That might explain it.” 

Laughter erupted from the group of women as Simona remained quiet, listening intently. She did her best to control her facial expressions out of the fear that they’d be able to read her like a book. She had been a part of this group since the beginning -- on the better end of two years -- and they had grown to know each other like sisters. Kierana, the funny one; Nayru, the promiscuous one; and Esli, the conspiracy theorist. Simona had the advantage of being the silent one, but she knew it would only be a matter of time before they figured it out. 

“I’ll give it to him,” Nayru teased, and Simona involuntarily whipped her head towards her in misguided jealousy. Her heart raced in the hope that the rest of them wouldn’t read it that way. “What? I bet he’s cute,” she insisted with a coy smile. “You don’t think so?” 

The question was directed at Simona, but she figured that it was innocent.

“Who knows?” Simona shrugged nonchalantly. She pretended to be absorbed in her vegetable soup in an attempt to redirect the attention elsewhere, but she was almost positive that the others were exchanging glances above her head. 

“But you’d _like_ to know, wouldn’t you?” Kierana persisted, yet another comment pointed in Simona’s direction. Her cheeks flushed against her will as she pretended like she didn’t notice.

“Oh, yeah. That tight little butt?” Esli chimed in, and Simona narrowed her eyes at her in disbelief.

“You can’t even see his butt underneath those robes, and besides -- since when are you so boy crazy??” Simona countered. She felt her pulse racing as she pulled her visibly trembling hand beneath the table, and the other women cackled in delight.

“You like him!” Nayru taunted her with a grin.

“No, I don’t,” Simona replied in disdain, shaking her head, but she knew they wouldn’t let it go. This was the same way that they had found out about the other guy that she was seeing, and deception was not her strong point. 

“Are you sleeping with this one, too?” Kierana asked with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“No,” Simona insisted firmly, and they didn’t press her beyond that. Most likely because they didn’t believe that there was a chance it could be true. 

 

When she got back to her room that evening, a sealed note was waiting for her on the bed: 

_Come see me again tonight._

There was no concern for her consent, not _if you want to_ or even _if you can_ , and for a fleeting instant she considered not returning. But the truth was, she enjoyed her brief time with him. She found him and his mysterious abilities exciting and sexy. So for the time being, she would go along with his narcissistic demands. 

She retrieved the robe from behind a hidden spot in her closet and set it on her nightstand, resolving once again to refrain from dinner with her friends. As transparent as she had been earlier in the day, she didn’t stand a chance of keeping this secret to herself if she sat down with them tonight. She ordered for dinner to be delivered to her door as she settled in for another evening in solitude; that is, of course, until she met up with _him_ again. Kylo Ren. It still didn’t seem real, and in many ways it wasn’t. 

00:30. She narrowly avoided questioning from a guard with a suspicious stare, dipping her head in acknowledgment at him casually as she made her way to GR12. She hastily entered the code and disappeared into the room, heaving a sigh of relief as she leaned her back up against the door. He appeared out of the darkness, startling her as she felt his lips on hers, his arm snaked around her midsection. She kissed him back but with hesitation. He immediately sensed it. 

“What?” he asked. She shook her head dismissively, feeling silly for wanting to complain. For expecting compassion when she was simply a means to an end. When she tried to kiss him again to deflect, he stopped her and stared at her intently, reaching his hand out as if trying to extract something from her consciousness. When he found what he was searching for -- the reason behind her discontent -- he looked away, defeated.

“I apologize for being so presumptuous...social niceties aren’t something that have been expected from me for quite some time now,” he admitted. “Next time, I’ll have more...respect...for your time,” he promised, though it looked like it pained him to say it. 

“It’s fine,” she shrugged, forcing a smile as she let her hair down and began to remove the robe that she knew he disliked. “What if I were someone else and you had attacked me like that?” she joked. He didn’t respond and instead began kissing her neck and helping her to undress. The truth was, he could sense that it was her as she was coming down the hallway. There was no way he would make such an amateur mistake. 

He glanced up at her and they locked eyes briefly, dangerously. Every action that emulated intimacy was one step closer to a relationship that he wasn’t willing to pursue; whether it was due to a fear of commitment or something else, she couldn’t be certain. She fiercely wanted to know his story -- why he always appeared so pensive, so disconsolate, so determined. Without entirely meaning to, she moved to touch his face, to provide him some kind of comfort, and her hand was yanked back with the same telekinetic force that he had used on her when she had tried to touch his arms the last time. 

“Get on the bed,” he commanded, expressionless. 

She did as she was told, climbing up and making herself comfortable as she watched him disrobe. An inclination to help him crossed her mind, but she thought better of it. It would be too -- too what? Too cute. Too sweet. Too affectionate. It was the kind of thing that he could get away with, but a privilege to which she wouldn’t be afforded.  
Beneath the layers of clothing he revealed his athletic build, and she tried to piece together the life that she imagined him to lead. In addition to his sharp mental acuity, he was probably skilled with a light saber. He must need to know how to fight -- but why? He didn’t work for anyone that she knew of, and his relationship with Hux was strained at best. Strange scars that were reminiscent of burns haphazardly adorned his body, only adding character to a man to whom she felt so inexplicably attracted. He looked over to find her watching him and smirked in approval, again with that careful smile. 

“Do you like what you see?” he asked, joining her on the bed. She nodded enthusiastically, allowing him to touch her body as he pleased. Her breathing became more pronounced as she did everything in her power not to return his advances, already knowing what the result would be. It was an exercise in inhibition. When he finally leaned in to kiss her she jumped like an overwound spring, returning it with an intense passion. 

The evening’s events transpired much like those of their previous rendezvous -- him in control, regarding their relationship as that of a puppeteer and a marionette. He was exceptionally tactile, fixated on making physical contact with her (as long as she didn’t try to reciprocate), and whatever elicited the strongest reaction from her was what he tended to seek the most -- that is, unless, it was an act that felt too reminiscent of affection in his mind. An ephemeral caressing of her skin, or kissing, or even penetration, for some reason, were deemed acceptable by him. But if she were to attempt to cuddle with him, or to lock eyes with him, or to touch him -- it would undeniably be forbidden. 

His rules were recalcitrant and unyielding, yet she accepted them. She could sense that he longed for some kind of human connection that he wouldn’t allow himself to receive. Maybe it was that pathetic female desire within herself -- _I can fix him; I can change him_ \-- or maybe it was a twisted mindset that closely mirrored his own, but she blossomed for him. Every brush of his fingertips felt like a gift. Every thrust was a sacrifice made for her delectation. Even if his actions felt selfish, they were so damn _satisfying._ The sensation of him pulling out brought her back to reality, choosing once again to regale her with a sticky mess and abandoning her like a discarded pile of rubbish. She smiled to herself as she heard the shower kick in and the door slide closed. 

Knowing the drill by now, she was long gone before he was done ridding himself of the inconvenience of caring for someone else.

 

Three weeks and two rooms later, he started to get sloppy. He even fell asleep in bed next to her once, something that she had never believed he would permit.

Without the threat of his disapproval present, she felt at liberty to visually examine him at her leisure. The burn marks that had caught her attention weeks earlier finally made sense once she saw them closer. They were the scarred flesh of cauterized wounds; the telltale mementos of innumerable light saber mishandlings. She reached towards him cautiously to run her finger over one and his eyes flew open, startling her so much that she jumped. He pulled away protectively to remove himself from her touch.

“My master discourages... _distracting_ emotions,” he explained as he sat himself up on the edge of the bed. It was a loaded statement. His refusal to say it to her face and his need to say anything at all made his true feelings evident. It didn’t mean _I don’t like it when you touch me_ as much as it meant _I like it too much._

Not knowing what to say in response or if she should say anything at all, she erred on the side of caution and remained silent as he went ahead with his shower routine. As the door closed behind him, she began collecting her belongings and couldn’t help but feel as if she had broken a fourth wall of some sort. 

 

“I’ve heard that Kylo Ren is beginning to lose his edge,” she heard one officer whisper to another in line at the cafeteria. She nearly stumbled, catching herself as she tried desperately to cling on to any remnant of the conversation without appearing to eavesdrop too obviously. 

“It’s true,” the other replied in a hush. “I saw someone accidently walk in his path yesterday and he barely even acknowledged it. He simply stopped to avoid a collision and continued on his way.”

The two officers exchanged hushed whispers of awe as Simona inhaled sharply, looking down to realize how harshly she was gripping her tray. She forced herself to relax, selecting a few items for lunch as she headed to her usual table. Guilt unconsciously gnawed at her as she wondered whether or not this uncharacteristic behavior was her fault. Had she, in fact, done something wrong?

“You didn’t,” Esli assured her, peering at her tray.

“Excuse me?” Simona asked. Her heart felt as if it had dropped into her stomach. 

“You’re really going to bring a piece of chocolate cake to the table and make me stare at it? You know I’m trying to watch my weight,” she explained grumpily.

“Oh. Sorry,” Simona said with an inward sigh of relief as she sat down. She thought she had been losing it for a second. She knew that _he_ could read her mind, but was relatively sure that she knew no one else who shared those capabilities. She was secretly thankful for the rest of her “average” friends who joined them shortly thereafter as the table broke into a predictable conversation.

“What’s going on with your boyfriend?” Kierana chided playfully, popping a piece of fruit into her mouth as she elbowed Simona. If she wanted to keep her little charade going, she couldn’t keep acting awkward. She had to play along.

“How should I know?” she shrugged dismissively.

“I still say he’s getting some,” Nayru insisted.

“He’s just preoccupied because they’re planning something huge right now. I’ll bet it has to do with Luke Skywalker,” Esli stated resolutely.

“Not everything is some secret plot,” Nayru scoffed.

Esli set down her food and stared at Nayru incredulously. “How long have you worked here? This whole place is a secret plot!” she hissed, and Nayru simply shrugged in concession.

 

Not long after that, any doubts that she may have held about his facade of dispassion came crashing down. After a particularly aggressive bout of lovemaking one night, he lie next to her silently, facing opposite her direction. He was close enough that she could easily touch him if she so desired. The rooms of Starkiller Base had no windows, but her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and were able to make out his lithe shape, modestly shrouded by the bed sheet. The delicate curvature of his shoulder blades juxtaposed with the shifting mass of slightly sculpted muscle made him seem so-- well, human. Approachable.

She agonized over whether or not she should try to initiate contact, because although she knew her place in this relationship, she couldn’t help but want more. She couldn’t fight the urge within herself that craved his scent, his touch, his presence; she couldn’t deny the part of her that wanted him around for longer than these nightly arrangements were able to provide. 

She bit down on her lower lip and gave in to instinct. Even in such close proximity, the space between her fingertips and his flesh felt light years away. Her hand found its place gingerly on his shoulder, and when he didn’t protest, she idly began stroking his arm. She naively believed that she was actually making progress until she noticed the faint shaking of one who was irrevocably breaking into tears. 

She should have known better than to draw him in. She should have pushed him away when he fell apart -- for what he wouldn’t say -- but instead she pulled him close and allowed him to sob into her chest. Stroking his hair and shushing away his sniffles, she felt more like his mother than she did his lover. And as she patiently cradled the fragmented remnants of this shattered man, she distinctly knew that it was the beginning of the end.

 

The notes stopped arriving. The meetings ceased existing. And GR 12 became nothing more than another vacant guest room.

 

* * *

Here was the worst part: He knew his error long before it was committed, and like an idiot, he went along with it anyway. He was acutely aware of his weakness, and knew where it would lead him, yet he followed the path blindly. How stupid of him. How potentially and infinitely damaging it could be to everything that he had worked towards. That the _Knights_ had worked towards. 

His -- dare he say it? -- _family_ , veritable terrorists against the Empire, had shared with him the tales of his grandfather Anakin Skywalker. He vividly recalled sitting on Han Solo’s lap, fixated by the words of his childhood hero, listening to the tale of how Anakin -- by now known as Darth Vader -- had sacrificed himself to save the life of his son, Luke. As a boy he had relished the story, inspired by the selfless act of love and valor. Invigorated by the instance of how redemption could be found even in the most despicable of circumstances.

Now that he was enlightened and removed from their lies, he knew the truth about what had taken place. He knew about the deceit and betrayal that had deterred his grandfather from realizing his full potential, and what had caused him to fall from grace at the hands of his treacherous son. He was well versed in the irreversible damage that could be done through the act of trusting others. And during his time under the tutelage of his master, he had made great strides in distancing himself from caring for others, much as he had distanced himself from his previous life. 

Getting close to Simona -- letting his guard down to someone who ultimately wound up having so much power over him -- was an unforgivable mistake. One he must never be careless enough to make again. Logically, he understood the gains that could be made through intimate relationships -- after all, he wouldn't exist had it not been for Anakin’s pairing with Padme -- but he also knew that it was a risk he couldn't take. He was destined to achieve everything that Darth Vader couldn't, that he _wouldn't_ , because he fell victim to an act of mercy. 

Mercy was for the weak. 

Nothing was going to prevent his plans from taking place. Not even a woman. A woman with soft skin...and mischievous eyes...and dulcet tones…

In haste, he made the necessary arrangements that must take place if he was going to move any further with his plans to destroy the Jedis once and for all. He had no choice.

 

* * *

General Hux paced the floor impatiently, questioning the officer yet again.

“Let me get this straight...he can remove one of my best officers simply on a whim? Simply because he damn well pleases?”

“I’m afraid so, sir,” the officer replied uncomfortably. 

“Ridiculous. Snoke will be hearing about this, that’s for sure.”

 

* * *

Honestly, Simona was relieved more than she was disappointed or surprised. She could tell that he was in a tumultuous place that was far more complicated and vast than that which she was prepared or even willing to get involved. She felt no regret in regards to what transpired -- every moment of ecstasy and forbidden lust was well worth the risk -- and -- truthfully, perhaps embarrassingly -- she knew that she would hop back into bed with him in an instant. 

She wasn’t sure if he had done it out of compassion, or lack of imagination, or mere convenience, but she had been relocated to her original base, the Star Destroyer in which she had completed her training. She now held a position where she was in charge of young cadets, children who were working to achieve the highly sought after status of those like herself -- units of the intricate patchwork that is the First Order. She much preferred her assignment here to that of which she held at Starkiller Base, but every time she caught a set of black robes out of the corner of her eye, her pulse would race and her heart would flutter. It was never him, of course, but still -- a girl can dream, can’t she?

Months later, when news came that Starkiller Base had been blown to pieces after an ill-fated Rebel attack, she immediately thought of him. Somehow, though, she knew. She had an innate feeling that he was fine.

Call it a sixth sense.


End file.
